Anna bolted. She scrambled, half sliding, half leaping, down the slope, back to the safety of the tree where she should have remained all along. Distantly, she heard the shouts of Lord Wichman and his men.
If she could only reach the horses, she would have the safety promised her by his soldiers.
But the Eika was far swifter, and quickly he closed to within a few paces. She heard his breath behind her, felt his presence; his long shadow reached out to encompass, to blot out, her slight shadow that danced across the ground as she ran. But though it was useless, she could not stop running.
Another sound drowned out the heavy stamp of the Eika feet—the pound of hooves. A taller shadow, a man upon a horse, overtook them both and a trilling war cry shattered the air. She dove and rolled. The long thin line of a sword leaped ahead of the mesh of shadows upon the grass and then it cut down into the darkness. There was a thud behind her. The horseman passed her, slowing and then bringing his mount around. She stuck out her hands and knees and stopped herself, rose up, hands and face scratched and just beginning to bleed softly. Her breath came in such gulping gasps that she thought she couldn’t get any air in. She twisted around.
The Eika lay behind her sprawled on its belly, cleaved from shoulder to spine. Its ugly head was twisted up to the left, almost all of the way around. Life drained rapidly from its eyes. It wore no wooden Circle on a thong around its neck. It had sworn no allegiance to the kin of humankind. Ai, Lady, it—and its brothers—had killed so many of her people and probably Papa Otto, too. It would have killed Matthias, given the chance.
She stood, bent, and spit in its face, but it was already dead.
“Ai, there, child!” The horseman reined up beside her. He unhooked his helm and pulled it off. She stared up, astonished, at Lord Wichman himself. He had a crazed look in his eyes and a wild grin on his lips. “You’re the one my men found foraging in the woods. Why didn’t you go with the refugees we sent off months ago, to the marchlands? You’re a cursed nuisance, almost ruining our raid like that.”
He had the full cheeks of a man who doesn’t want for food, even in hard times. Terrified, she did not know how to address him. No lord had ever even noticed her before.
At last, stammering, she found her voice. “Master Helvidius is my grandfather, my lord.” The lie came conveniently to her lips. “I had to stay with him, and he was too ill to walk so far when the others left.”
He grunted, sheathing his sword. “He’ll have a victorious tale to sing tonight. A good sixty cattle and as many goats we’ve claimed back today.” His grin was fierce and sure, and he looked ready to ride out this minute on another raid. “Go on, then.” He gestured to the west. Snow blew and skittered round him, white flakes spinning in the wind. “It’s a long walk back to Steleshame.”
Then he turned and rode away to meet a half dozen of his mounted soldiers. They headed east. Anna ran for the top of the hill and there—